


Certain Advantages

by JessicaPendragon



Series: Dorxus [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6936256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian does not believe in violence. </p><p>
  <a href="http://jessicapendragon.tumblr.com/post/140542108679/dorxus-with-21-because-you-know-neckromancer">Tumblr Link</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Certain Advantages

Dorian does not believe in violence. There are other ways to mediate and settle scores that he finds more appealing - a good word here, a scathing one there, a piece of blackmail slipped into the right fingers. There is something deeply more satisfying about wounding someone with words than with blades. He does believe, however, as he watches Vaxus and Blackwall spar in Skyhold’s ring, that it does have certain advantages.

The warm sun and rigorous exercise have convinced the two warriors to forgo their shirts as they battle one another. Toned muscles stretch and tighten, rolling beneath sweat slicked skin with each parry and thrust. They are mountains of powerful prowess, mighty strength restrained and then let loose like a landslide. There is dedication and danger spelled out in every line and hard plain, a mix that is making it a little difficult for Dorian to remain still and unaffected.

It does not help that the clash of metal and wood is accompanied by low grunts of effort that remind him of other activities, as does the intense look of concentration on Vax’s face. When his warrior lets out one last bellow and sends Blackwall’s shield careening across the circle, Dorian has to make a hasty retreat back into the keep lest his agitated state get the better of him out there where too many eyes can see.

He tries to bury his thoughts between dusty pages, but it is made all the more difficult when the object of his distraction enter his little alcove. Dorian pretends not to notice, feigning surprise as he finally looks up from his book. “Hello there, amatus.”

“Did you enjoy the show?” Vaxus asks with a smile, a towel slung over his still bare shoulders.

 _Ah, caught._ “What’s not to like about two grown men clobbering each other with sticks? All part of that barbaric charm of the south.”

“Because in Tevinter it’s much better to light someone on fire?”

“Certainly more entertaining.”

Vax stops a short distance away still smiling although there is a heat to it now, something that can be felt and seen with every breath and pulse of his heart. The room suddenly feels too warm, too small. “And did I not entertain?”

Dorian pushes back into the bookshelf although he doesn’t know why when all he really wants to do is reach out and taste salt against skin. The sentiment makes him believe he’s spent entirely too long in this country. “Well, your… _enthusiasm_ was appreciated. I wouldn’t mind being subjected to it, if you-”

Vaxus grabs the book in hand and tosses it and all protests are trampled as their mouths meet. The hard spines of books press into Dorian’s, but they are nothing compared to the solid weight in front of him, around him, over him, as he becomes aware of just how enthused Vax truly is. It is also becoming increasingly difficult to remain quiet under such an attack, especially as lips leave a trail down his neck. Gentle kisses turn sharper, longer, as Vax nibbles and sucks, no doubt leaving marks that will be anything but discreet.

Dorian finds he doesn’t care - can’t care. He only wants more and with hardly any decency of his own turns his head and offers the other side to be marked for all to see. Instead of teeth and firm hands, he receives one last, chaste kiss before Vaxus steps away. The fire in his eyes hasn’t dimmed, only seemed to have grown all the brighter, although now there is a damnable playfulness to his grin. “So eager?”

Dorian huffs, straightening his collar. “Brute.”

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

“Make it ten.”

“Deal.”


End file.
